August 7: To Have
Title: To Have
Series: The Sunnydale Mission
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: La Femme Nikita (1997)
Character(s): Madeline, Oz, Operations/Paul
Rating: FR-13/PG
Summary: Madeline briefs Oz and the Section One operatives on their mission.
Length: ~1780
Disclaimer: Only the words are mine, and that’s probably up for philosophical debate.
Notes: See end.
The tanning lamps had helped somewhat. He was still pale, but Madeline could no longer trace large portions of his circulatory system by sight alone, nor had he glowed when backlit in the doorway to the briefing room. Someone in Wardrobe had also chosen to darken his hair along with the hair cut and styling gel. It served to make the pallor look more natural. She approved. A few more overly-healthy meals would help to fill him out, but Madeline didn't think he'd be in the field long enough for it to matter.
Standing before Madeline as he patiently enduring her visual inspection, he looked out of place in his loose-fitting jeans and checkered button-down shirt opened to reveal the black t-shirt underneath.
"This is Oz from Four. As you'll see on your panels, he will be our primary operative in the field," she said by way of introduction to the Section One operatives seated around the briefing table. Turning to him, she indicated that he should join them. "Please."
"Yes, ma'am." In the midst of his teammates, all dressed for their roles, he hardly stood out at all.
Madeline smiled. "Let's begin, shall we." She called up the primary screen. "As you all know by now, although the Sunnydale mission is primarily a small fact-gathering exercise, expected to last no more than two weeks, it is a joint effort between Section One and Section Four-hence our ‘borrowing' of Oz."
Half of the oversized viewscreen was filled with a shifting schematic of the town, Sunnydale, that cycled between the town's topography, population density, building zones and infrastructure. The other half showed statistics from various government agencies, including police reports and the most recent national census. The information was simultaneously reflected on their panels. Madeline gave them time to review it.
"These numbers are impossible," someone muttered.
Nodding, Madeline said, "Yes, Dale, precisely. Furthermore, there has been no formal inquiry by any recognized government agency into murder, migration and disappearance rates, although all their population numbers are systemically higher than national averages. In some categories they actually skew the national averages."
Someone swore under their breath. Madeline ignored it. "The Sunnydale effect, as we'll be calling it for now, extends some ways outside of the town although it doesn't seem to affect its nearest big-city neighbor, LA.
"We have some leads regarding causes for these numbers and they all point to supernatural causes." Madeline waited for the chuffs, the blank stares, the incredulity and confusion to pass before she said, "Which is why we are working with Section Four for this mission. Oz, tell your teammates what you are."
He looked up, blinking and blank for a moment-surprised by the request or still immersed in the information on his panel-before answering. "I'm a werewolf."
Silence filled the small meeting room.
"How long have you been a werewolf?"
He shrugged. "All of my life, as far as I know."
Eyebrows quirking, Madeline crossed her arms over her chest. "And are you the only werewolf Section Four has in residence?"
"No, ma'am. Not at all." Oz's lips curled as if thinking of someone in particular.
"Looks like you'll be happy to have a vacation from someone."
"A female," he said, answering the implied question obliquely.
Madeline nodded.
The disbelief in the room was palpable. No one wanted to look at Oz, sitting as far from Madeline as it was possible to get at the oblong table, and yet their shoulders were subtly angling that way.
"Can you prove to us that you have another nature?"
He frowned. "Probably not without hurting a lot of people. It's a small room. If there's some silver in the room I could try to touch it, but the smell might make someone nauseous."
"I'm sure we'll figure out something. Moving right along..." Immediately all eyes returned to either the screen ahead or the panels on the table, tension easing as they did.
"Over the past year, the numbers for murders and disappearances have dropped significantly. At the center of this decline seems to be a high school student named Buffy Ann Summers." The town schematic sank away into the corner of the screen to be replaced by the picture of a teen-aged blonde girl.
"Two years ago she was involved in an incident at her school in LA County, including burning down the gymnasium during a dance. Since then she has had a less-than-model record as a student and her name has been flagged by several agencies within the town. However, as I stated, Sunnydale's statistics have never been better. Section Four has its theories as does Section One. We need more intel. You're going to gather it for us.
"Oz will take point within the supernatural community, which seems to be well-established in the area. The rest of you will pose as members of the town, primarily as high school students. With its high migration rate, five new faces will hardly make a ripple, assuming you're noticed at all. The same will be true of your subsequent disappearances. Oz will be in the band."
"There are an abnormal number of cemeteries," someone said.
Nodding, Madeline added, "And sewer access pipes, as well as other oddly occurring unnatural structures in and surrounding the town. For example…" The picture of Ms. Summers minimized and the town map maximized. "…considering it's size, wealth, population and overall history, there is an abnormally large warehouse district. These are all mysteries I fully expect you to explore."
An operative raised his hand to get Madeline's attention. "And that's all?"
"For now. If either of the theories concerning Ms. Summers are accurate, Section will want to recruit her, so keep your ears open. Reports are expected twice daily. Solitary travel is restricted to daylight hours. No operative, including Oz, is allowed to travel alone at night. Is that understood?"
There was a soft chorus of Yeses and Yes, ma'ams.
Another hand was raised. At Madeline's nod the operative said, "Are we reporting to Oz?"
"You'll send your reports directly to me. If there is an issue involving the supernatural, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you, take it to Oz immediately. Then we'll go from there.
"Are there any other questions?" She let the silence reign for a long, long moment. "You will be leaving tonight for Sunnydale at 1900. We will convene in Bay 6 at 1830. You're dismissed."
There was a general rustle of moving chairs and shifting clothing, but nothing was said out loud.
"Except you, Oz. Please remain behind."
She couldn't hear him, but she thought she saw him say "Yes, ma'am." She might miss him when he was sent him back. Perhaps, like the Slayer, they could recruit Oz as well.
"You know it seems a little ironic that the agency dealing in psionics, werewolves and mutants refuses to believe in a woman who's supposed to police them?" Operations had said in response to Section Four's vehement denial of their theory of Ms. Summers effect on the town.
"Perhaps it's not the story of the Slayer they refuse to believe, but the person telling it," Madeline had said, pragmatically. Operations, Paul, had grunted. "If they want better funding then they’ll have to produce better results," he’d said mostly to himself. "Just make sure this Oz is on our side. You're sure that he's the right one for this mission?"
"Positive."
With the meeting over, Madeline felt freer to give the temporary operative a closer inspection-and subsequently lay her own claim on him. When he was close enough, she grasped his chin with her fingers. Ignoring the instant tension, she turned him this way and that before running her hands down his arms in a cursory manner. She plucked at his clothes. She made him turn for her. She ran a hand through his darkened hair.
Around them, operatives ignored them as they walked in and out of the briefing room. If he was embarrassed or annoyed, he didn't let on. Except for the initial moment of tension, Oz allowed her to handle him like a particularly large toy. His breathing remained calm and even, and his pupils never dilated.
"By now I'm sure you've reviewed your profile for this mission?" she said.
He nodded. "I'm going to be a musician. A bassist for a band."
"You don't sound very pleased."
"Should I be?"
"Do you know how to be?"
Oz opened his mouth to reply, then closed it without saying a word. He recoiled slightly, probably expecting retaliation. She expected all responses to be verbal after all.
Madeline slapped his lower cheek to reinforce her mandate, but with only enough force to make his head move and only because he was being so docile. Per her research, consistency was key in establishing and maintaining dominance. The same was true for werewolves. If he were one of her operatives and not one of Four’s wolves she would have let it go. But she wanted him to be hers.
Hmm.
"The bassist for a local band has taken ill. You'll fill in for him and use the band's scheduled performances and odd hours to your advantage."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you feel confident that you can do this?"
He thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Mostly. It will be the most interaction I’ve had with the outside ever. On my own."
Madeline smiled. "I think you’ll be fine the way you are. Had I thought otherwise I would have sent you back."
"Thank you?"
Madeline’s smile broadened. She cupped his face, scratching gently beneath his jaw, and felt him relax further. She drew her hands away and he took an involuntary step towards her. "You’ve been given temporary quarters?"
He shook himself, but did not step away. "Yes, ma’am."
"Return to them and study the instrument that you will find there. It should be as familiar to you as your computers back home."
He dipped his head. "Yes, ma’am."
"Still nervous?"
"A little."
She patted his shoulder, stopping herself from putting a proprietary hand on his neck. "Dismissed."
Madeline sat down at the briefing table. Her page appeared from the corner where he had been waiting for her. "Tell Havel to push back my schedule by an hour and a half."
The page murmured a soft ‘Yes’ before scurrying off to complete his task. Leaning back, Madeline contemplated the panel at her fingertips and the way her hands itched to thread themselves through gel-stiffened red hair. She knew this feeling. It was the beginning of obsession. She wanted the little Section Four ‘operative’, but not the way she sometimes wanted Paul, or the way she craved command.
No, she wanted Oz the way she’d wanted her sister’s doll so many years ago. But why?
Fin[ite]
Author’s Note: I don’t even know, ya’ll. A sequel was percolating in my head not long after I finished the first story, but I don’t think it was this.
AN2: I'm not thrilled with the series title (there's at least a 3rd story rattling around in my head) so it may change. I am welcome to suggestions.
Series: The Sunnydale Mission
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: La Femme Nikita (1997)
Character(s): Madeline, Oz, Operations/Paul
Rating: FR-13/PG
Summary: Madeline briefs Oz and the Section One operatives on their mission.
Length: ~1780
Disclaimer: Only the words are mine, and that’s probably up for philosophical debate.
Notes: See end.
The tanning lamps had helped somewhat. He was still pale, but Madeline could no longer trace large portions of his circulatory system by sight alone, nor had he glowed when backlit in the doorway to the briefing room. Someone in Wardrobe had also chosen to darken his hair along with the hair cut and styling gel. It served to make the pallor look more natural. She approved. A few more overly-healthy meals would help to fill him out, but Madeline didn't think he'd be in the field long enough for it to matter.
Standing before Madeline as he patiently enduring her visual inspection, he looked out of place in his loose-fitting jeans and checkered button-down shirt opened to reveal the black t-shirt underneath.
"This is Oz from Four. As you'll see on your panels, he will be our primary operative in the field," she said by way of introduction to the Section One operatives seated around the briefing table. Turning to him, she indicated that he should join them. "Please."
"Yes, ma'am." In the midst of his teammates, all dressed for their roles, he hardly stood out at all.
Madeline smiled. "Let's begin, shall we." She called up the primary screen. "As you all know by now, although the Sunnydale mission is primarily a small fact-gathering exercise, expected to last no more than two weeks, it is a joint effort between Section One and Section Four-hence our ‘borrowing' of Oz."
Half of the oversized viewscreen was filled with a shifting schematic of the town, Sunnydale, that cycled between the town's topography, population density, building zones and infrastructure. The other half showed statistics from various government agencies, including police reports and the most recent national census. The information was simultaneously reflected on their panels. Madeline gave them time to review it.
"These numbers are impossible," someone muttered.
Nodding, Madeline said, "Yes, Dale, precisely. Furthermore, there has been no formal inquiry by any recognized government agency into murder, migration and disappearance rates, although all their population numbers are systemically higher than national averages. In some categories they actually skew the national averages."
Someone swore under their breath. Madeline ignored it. "The Sunnydale effect, as we'll be calling it for now, extends some ways outside of the town although it doesn't seem to affect its nearest big-city neighbor, LA.
"We have some leads regarding causes for these numbers and they all point to supernatural causes." Madeline waited for the chuffs, the blank stares, the incredulity and confusion to pass before she said, "Which is why we are working with Section Four for this mission. Oz, tell your teammates what you are."
He looked up, blinking and blank for a moment-surprised by the request or still immersed in the information on his panel-before answering. "I'm a werewolf."
Silence filled the small meeting room.
"How long have you been a werewolf?"
He shrugged. "All of my life, as far as I know."
Eyebrows quirking, Madeline crossed her arms over her chest. "And are you the only werewolf Section Four has in residence?"
"No, ma'am. Not at all." Oz's lips curled as if thinking of someone in particular.
"Looks like you'll be happy to have a vacation from someone."
"A female," he said, answering the implied question obliquely.
Madeline nodded.
The disbelief in the room was palpable. No one wanted to look at Oz, sitting as far from Madeline as it was possible to get at the oblong table, and yet their shoulders were subtly angling that way.
"Can you prove to us that you have another nature?"
He frowned. "Probably not without hurting a lot of people. It's a small room. If there's some silver in the room I could try to touch it, but the smell might make someone nauseous."
"I'm sure we'll figure out something. Moving right along..." Immediately all eyes returned to either the screen ahead or the panels on the table, tension easing as they did.
"Over the past year, the numbers for murders and disappearances have dropped significantly. At the center of this decline seems to be a high school student named Buffy Ann Summers." The town schematic sank away into the corner of the screen to be replaced by the picture of a teen-aged blonde girl.
"Two years ago she was involved in an incident at her school in LA County, including burning down the gymnasium during a dance. Since then she has had a less-than-model record as a student and her name has been flagged by several agencies within the town. However, as I stated, Sunnydale's statistics have never been better. Section Four has its theories as does Section One. We need more intel. You're going to gather it for us.
"Oz will take point within the supernatural community, which seems to be well-established in the area. The rest of you will pose as members of the town, primarily as high school students. With its high migration rate, five new faces will hardly make a ripple, assuming you're noticed at all. The same will be true of your subsequent disappearances. Oz will be in the band."
"There are an abnormal number of cemeteries," someone said.
Nodding, Madeline added, "And sewer access pipes, as well as other oddly occurring unnatural structures in and surrounding the town. For example…" The picture of Ms. Summers minimized and the town map maximized. "…considering it's size, wealth, population and overall history, there is an abnormally large warehouse district. These are all mysteries I fully expect you to explore."
An operative raised his hand to get Madeline's attention. "And that's all?"
"For now. If either of the theories concerning Ms. Summers are accurate, Section will want to recruit her, so keep your ears open. Reports are expected twice daily. Solitary travel is restricted to daylight hours. No operative, including Oz, is allowed to travel alone at night. Is that understood?"
There was a soft chorus of Yeses and Yes, ma'ams.
Another hand was raised. At Madeline's nod the operative said, "Are we reporting to Oz?"
"You'll send your reports directly to me. If there is an issue involving the supernatural, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you, take it to Oz immediately. Then we'll go from there.
"Are there any other questions?" She let the silence reign for a long, long moment. "You will be leaving tonight for Sunnydale at 1900. We will convene in Bay 6 at 1830. You're dismissed."
There was a general rustle of moving chairs and shifting clothing, but nothing was said out loud.
"Except you, Oz. Please remain behind."
She couldn't hear him, but she thought she saw him say "Yes, ma'am." She might miss him when he was sent him back. Perhaps, like the Slayer, they could recruit Oz as well.
"You know it seems a little ironic that the agency dealing in psionics, werewolves and mutants refuses to believe in a woman who's supposed to police them?" Operations had said in response to Section Four's vehement denial of their theory of Ms. Summers effect on the town.
"Perhaps it's not the story of the Slayer they refuse to believe, but the person telling it," Madeline had said, pragmatically. Operations, Paul, had grunted. "If they want better funding then they’ll have to produce better results," he’d said mostly to himself. "Just make sure this Oz is on our side. You're sure that he's the right one for this mission?"
"Positive."
With the meeting over, Madeline felt freer to give the temporary operative a closer inspection-and subsequently lay her own claim on him. When he was close enough, she grasped his chin with her fingers. Ignoring the instant tension, she turned him this way and that before running her hands down his arms in a cursory manner. She plucked at his clothes. She made him turn for her. She ran a hand through his darkened hair.
Around them, operatives ignored them as they walked in and out of the briefing room. If he was embarrassed or annoyed, he didn't let on. Except for the initial moment of tension, Oz allowed her to handle him like a particularly large toy. His breathing remained calm and even, and his pupils never dilated.
"By now I'm sure you've reviewed your profile for this mission?" she said.
He nodded. "I'm going to be a musician. A bassist for a band."
"You don't sound very pleased."
"Should I be?"
"Do you know how to be?"
Oz opened his mouth to reply, then closed it without saying a word. He recoiled slightly, probably expecting retaliation. She expected all responses to be verbal after all.
Madeline slapped his lower cheek to reinforce her mandate, but with only enough force to make his head move and only because he was being so docile. Per her research, consistency was key in establishing and maintaining dominance. The same was true for werewolves. If he were one of her operatives and not one of Four’s wolves she would have let it go. But she wanted him to be hers.
Hmm.
"The bassist for a local band has taken ill. You'll fill in for him and use the band's scheduled performances and odd hours to your advantage."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you feel confident that you can do this?"
He thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Mostly. It will be the most interaction I’ve had with the outside ever. On my own."
Madeline smiled. "I think you’ll be fine the way you are. Had I thought otherwise I would have sent you back."
"Thank you?"
Madeline’s smile broadened. She cupped his face, scratching gently beneath his jaw, and felt him relax further. She drew her hands away and he took an involuntary step towards her. "You’ve been given temporary quarters?"
He shook himself, but did not step away. "Yes, ma’am."
"Return to them and study the instrument that you will find there. It should be as familiar to you as your computers back home."
He dipped his head. "Yes, ma’am."
"Still nervous?"
"A little."
She patted his shoulder, stopping herself from putting a proprietary hand on his neck. "Dismissed."
Madeline sat down at the briefing table. Her page appeared from the corner where he had been waiting for her. "Tell Havel to push back my schedule by an hour and a half."
The page murmured a soft ‘Yes’ before scurrying off to complete his task. Leaning back, Madeline contemplated the panel at her fingertips and the way her hands itched to thread themselves through gel-stiffened red hair. She knew this feeling. It was the beginning of obsession. She wanted the little Section Four ‘operative’, but not the way she sometimes wanted Paul, or the way she craved command.
No, she wanted Oz the way she’d wanted her sister’s doll so many years ago. But why?
Fin[ite]
Author’s Note: I don’t even know, ya’ll. A sequel was percolating in my head not long after I finished the first story, but I don’t think it was this.
AN2: I'm not thrilled with the series title (there's at least a 3rd story rattling around in my head) so it may change. I am welcome to suggestions.